This morning, due to wind direction, planes are begining their final descent to London Luton Airport directly over the farm. They look close enough to touch. However when each one passes overhead thoughts are drawn to a mountainside in the French Alps.
I look to the sky above the farm,
Another plane passes, no alarm.
I think of pieces strewn around,
Where the Airbus hit the ground.
We see pictures of many grieving young,
16 classmates no more fun.
Photos of passengers no more to be seen,
On a mountainside a mourning scene.
We watchers from afar are lucky to say:
‘For us tomorrow’s just another day.’
© Baldock Bard 2015
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